The HUNGER
by the omnipotent lord twain
Summary: This is a hunger games fanfic, with a twist in the middle, which will change everything that you ever thought about the Hunger Games. T for later possible chapters, and is subject to change at any point.
1. Chapter 1

Chap. 1The Beginning

Violet's POV

It wasn't supposed to end this way. I was just supposed to die, like a nice little tribute. It all was going to be routine, the tributes slowly get picked off, one by one, until the Careers turn on each other, and then, the "fun" is supposed to begin. But something happened. Wait, wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start from the beginning.

I was born in District 3. But don't get me wrong, I hate these so called "Games". Unlike these trolls, I feel sympathy for every family left childless, and every child who gets their future swept away unexpectedly,. So when district 11 had an uprising, I began to believe that there was some hope, however slim, that this barbarism would end. But my chances of seeing that future were shattered by my being entered into the hunger games. The day of the reaping I made my way down to the town square in my best is my fifth year in the reaping, and my chances of getting picked are very slim. I don't need any tesserae, my father is the mayor of this district. As I walk into my section of the square, I notice my friends. Some of them are shaking violently, some of them are just as confident as I am that they won't get chosen. As they show the previous reapings, I see mothers crying over children, brothers and sisters torn apart, and I am the only person that realizes the magnitude of this. Most or all of these people in this video are dead. I show no emotion, fearing the mockery of those around me. I have only one thought. This is wrong. Very wrong. People will die a bloody death for the pleasure of others. You could guess my surprise when my name was chosen from the fishbowls.

So now, you're caught up. Wait, not completely, I forgot one crucial detail. My name is Violet Fletcher, and I am going to die.

Lucius's POV

Well, at least I've done what I can. There's no reversing it, and no way out except to go out fighting. I hope that what you've seen me do gives you a good laugh. Or at least entertained you. I am Lucius Cronin, District 7, and I am now a man. When I was born, my mother was forced to give me up. So I wandered the streets alone, often resorting to petty thievery. If you are wondering how I can write like this, you know, proper english and stuff, I was given an education, but eventually, my caretakers could no longer afford it, so I was abandoned a second time, and it was not to be the last. But I digress. But one day, a man ran into me on the street. Not figuratively, literally ran into me. Well, I ran into him, and he looked just as surprised as I did, and when I ran away, he began to shout after me.

"Hey, kid! HEY!" But I just kept on running, figuring that he was going to call the police.

I ducked down into a building around the corner, which seemed abandoned. I ducked behind a desk, looking at the front door the whole time. The man came up to the door, and walked in,as if he could sense that I was in here. He found me almost immediately. He grabbed my wrist before I could get away, and said to me, quietly, "I have been looking for you." I try to shake him off, but he has a vice-like grip on my arm. He tells me that I was chosen, but that I had evaded the peacekeepers for too long. "There's a nice bounty on your head. And I'm looking to collect." He drags me up to the nearest peacekeeper, and it says "Nice build, developed features, you'll do just fine." Then he shouts to the rest of the peacekeepers, "WE GOT HIM! LOAD HIM UP!"


	2. Chapter 2

Violet's POV

I am shoved by Peacekeepers onto a train that I think is shaped like a bullet. The steel doors close behind me and moments later, I feel the train smoothly leave the platform. Off to the Capitol, the place I would rather jump off a cliff a thousand times than go to. But here I am. I soak in my surroundings and realize I am in what seems to be the dining car. There's an elegant glass table centered in the middle of the car surrounded by little wooden chairs. A buffet lines the far wall of the car, but before I can get any closer, the door from a different car slides open and in walks the Grim Reaper. "Well, look who we have here! Our most interesting tributes yet!" she croons. "I, In case you haven't been listening, am Angela Coleman." I hear a snicker come from behind Angela, and out steps my mentor. "I'm Daniel Richardson, but you can call me Dan." I nod, not in the mood to talk to either of them. "Where's the other tribute?" I ask.

Angela and Dan share a look.

"Oh, Mason is, uh, on his way," Dan answers. I had seen Mason around the town, but never really talked to him. I was always with a group of friends or exercising. I never really liked to sit still for long, My father was always busy and I didn't really enjoy the company of my younger brother. I turned and walked past Dan and Angela, desperate to get out of their sight, and run straight into Mason. Literally ran into him, slightly throwing us both off. "Sorry," I murmured. I glanced up at him. He was about 4 inches taller than me, with a well toned body. His deep brown eyes bore into my electric blue. I turned around and walked back into the dining room, acting as if nothing had happened, noticing Dan smirk at me. "So," Mason asks Daniel, still staring at me,"got any advice on how to survive? We could sure use it."

Crucius's POV

I'm shoved onto a train that is going to take me to the capitol. The capitol is full of those pampered, disfigured, uncomprehending idiots. They sit there and eat their "caviar" and "patte" while people like me starve to death. I step onto the platform, and walk down the aisle, to find out that the other tribute was someone I knew. She was another thief-type, and sometimes we would help hide each other, when we got a little sloppy with our so called "burgling", or we would just help each other out when they were having a hard time finding food. Her name was Auburn. No One knows her real name, not even her, she has auburn hair, so it stuck. She noticed that I was walking up, and she nodded in recognition, so I waved. She is cunning, and, from years on the street, she is versed in hand to hand combat. I may be able to hide, and steal something out of someones hand without their noticing, but when it comes to hand to hand combat, I'm lost. I haven't told her this, nor may I ever get to, but there is no one else that I would trust my life with. We both look each other over for a time, as we haven't seen each other in a while. She makes the first comment,

"You seem to have bulked up a bit. I mean compared to how you were." I tell her right back, "You seem to have grown! What are you, an inch taller now?" "I haven't seen you in ages!" She says, after the expected taunting. "How have you been faring?" I told her, without an ounce of sarcasm, "Just about as good as any street urchin can fare." We travel, I am told, toward the capitol at over 200 miles per hour, but I have to ask our Mentor, Chrissy, how I can see out of the window. She goes into a long and complicated story about perspective and inertia and potential energy, but I zone out. And I had never really had a good look at her before today, but Auburn is beautiful. I have been having to listen to Chrissy, our mentor, for about half an hour now. I need something to eat. I haven't had anything all day. I tell Chrissy that I'm thirsty, which, I guess, is partially true, and observe the decorations as I slowly meander towards the dining car. The passenger cars are lush, luxuriant, and almost seems to have a sort of calming effect. Then, after many more passenger cars, I finally get to the dining car. I look around, and it seems the same as the passenger cars, save for one fact. The seats were replaced with tables with these white curtain like things draped over them. In the back, I see a small window with the curtains pulled. I have no clue who to ask to get any food, so I walk up. I am about to tap on the glass, but I see some writing above a small yellow button.  
"Press for service." So, I pressed the button, and I could hear a small buzzing sound coming, most likely, from behind the glass. A man quickly walks up to the glass, who, I notice, has an almost surgically turned up nose! He greets me while pressing a button that was controlling something that I am not sure what it did, but it may have somehow controlled his voice. "What would you like?" The man asks, in a voice that is so nasally that I am not sure if this man has a cold, or is just unfortunate. I ask him what they have, because I do not know the menu. He responds by pointing up, I look, and there's the menu! I must have missed that somehow. I told the man that I just wanted a burger, and he scoffed, "That's all?" Then he took his finger off of the button, and yelled something, inaudibly, to someone on the other side of the, I assume, soundproof glass. "Your food will be ready in a bit, would you like any refreshments while you wait?" I again look at the menu, and order the milk. He walks off, and he walks back with a glass full of an almost immaculate white substance that is apparently milk. As I am walking back to my table, I take a sip. Almost immediately, I practically drop the glass because the rich flavor takes me away. It is more tasty than anything I have ever tasted in my life. After I have finally finished, I hear the man say, in a seemingly mocking voice, "Here is your, _burger_, sir." I walk over to him, and he unlatches a hook, which, presumably, holds the food flap up. He slides my food to me, and I go back to my table. I also ask him for a refill on my milk, which he brings back to me. After taking another sip on the way back to my table, I take a look at this monstrous thing before me. This thing is easily larger than any scrap of food that I've ever had in my entire life, and even the full meals that I have been lucky enough to snare haven't been as filling as this was. the meat was tender, and soooo juicy. The onions exploded into my mouth, and made a fireworks display of flavor along with the green peppers. After that, I just came back to the main car, where everyone had gathered. We all sat around, until I finally broke the silence. "What've you got to tell us?" He shifts around in his chair, seemingly thinking to himself, and finally answered, "Water." She then walked off, seemingly being able to talk nonstop about any subject, with the exception of how to survive.

Violet's POV  
The train starts to slow and I know we've reached the Capitol. As the train comes to a complete stop, I cautiously walk towards the door. As I get closer, it slowly slides open, as if to dramatize the effect of my entering for the first time into the Capitol. I take a few tentative steps into this new world and am immediately fascinated by this place so different from my own district. First of all, it's utterly bright. All of the buildings are made of metal, none of that birch stuff we have back at the district. I then notice the people on the streets. I was expecting everyone to be living a rich wonderful life, only worrying whether they'll get invited to Claudia's party, but instead I was greeted with the sights of homeless people draped on the ground, begging for something, anything. I was overcome with a feeling of depression and bitterness. It was bad enough they were starving 12 districts full of what they considered their servants, but their own citizens? My hatred of the Capitol and its President had just grown. I felt someone come up behind me.

"It's awful,"Mason sighs, coming to stand by my side, looking out at the shelterless.I nod, but before I can say anything, we are suddenly escorted by Peacekeepers through the city to see our stylists. We walk into what resembles a hospital, with white walls and many curtains. I'm led behind one of the curtains, where my stylist crew was awaiting me. I am introduced. The woman with the bright yellow hair and tattoo sleeve is Helena, the man with the spiky white hair and the too many face piercings is Lucifer,and the woman with the extremely long neon pink hair and annoying laugh is Renee. I am lain down on a metal table and my dignity is removed from me, while their disfigured features take in every inch of me. They decide to pluck my eyebrows, until there is only a thin line of hair, and wax the rest of my body until I feel like I'm burning. They then comb through my hair with fine-toothed combs and file down my nails to what they deem is perfect. My whole body feels like it has been experimented with, which it has. After what has to be the most agonizing hours of my life, my stylists finally leave. Mere seconds later, someone else enters the room. I brace myself for the prodding of my prep team, but I'm greeted with a soft voice.

"Here's some clothes if you like." I shot up from my position on the metal table, and quickly turn my head toward the voice. The man who's standing before me has fairly tanned skin, with almost white blonde spiked hair, and tan eyeshadow to match his hair. "Uh,Thanks," I stammer, taking the clothes he was handing out to me and shimmying into them. "I'm Marcus and I'm here to help you make your mark on the Capitol people," he tells me. I scowl at him, recalling that last few hours of torture. "I'm as perfect as can be," I snap back sarcastically. Marco hold up his hands as a sign of surrender. "I'm really sorry about that, I truly am, those dimwit preps aren't as talented as I am. I think you'll like what I have planned for you."

Crucius's POV  
We tried to press Chrissy for more information, but she would just wave us off, and look away. We asked the apparent reaper, "Darryl", what he knew, but all he could tell us was that he couldn't tell us anything on that subject. Although, on another subject, if we needed to know anything about manners, he was the man to see. We felt a sense of helplessness, because, unless we were dropped into a forest, being from district 7, we would have no idea how to survive. So, when we arrived at the Capitol, we both exchanged looks, and as the doors opened, we both stepped out to a light that can only be described as blinding. We both shielded our faces with our arms, but as our eyes became accustomed to the flashing lights, we realized that people were photographing us, for the obvious reasons, to put us in the innumerable papers, magazines, video updates, and all of the other dribble that is spoon fed to the Capitol's children. We walked, or more accurately, were dragged, to a hospital like building, where we were then separated, and I was sent to a curtained off area, where I was examined, and prodded. It was really not as bad as I have heard of it described, I just zoned out, and I went off into thinking about what I was going to do in the Games. I was really hoping that I was going to be dropped into a forest, because I would have a very large advantage. But if not, I may be screwed. Deserts, I have no clue. Swamps, they're kind of like forests, right? Jungles, no experience at all. See? I have no chance, if Chrissy decides to keep her mouth shut, on the only subject that may keep us alive. Then, my thoughts drift off to Auburn. She is so awesome. I have seen her work, and with how fast she is, you wouldn't know she was there if there was a camera playing a recording of her again and again. And she can make a fire in no time flat, using anything that is laying around at the time. Me? I really don't know what I can do. I mean yeah, I can climb a tree, but that'll do me a fat lot of good in a desert. One of them shakes me, because I apparently wasn't responding to them, and they tell me that they'll be leaving now, and to wait for Tatyana. So I sit, and wait, and wait, and wait, and wait, and WHEN IS SHE GOING T*SLAM* "I am so sorry, but I am not exactly organized. So you're this little strapping man I keep hearing about?" She said to me, and, I noted, it seemed like her words were as nervous and worried as she was. She had entered with loads of things in her hands,and she dropped many of them when she came through the double doors. She gathered her things haphazardly, and plopped them onto a table next to me. "Hmm? Oh, I see, you're the strong, silent type. Well, I've got something for you to do, and it doesn't involve talking."

Violet's Pov  
After talking to Marcus for a while, I eventually decided that my outfit won't be as bad as I thought it would I will be shown off to the Capitol. We will be paraded around, and if the people like us, they will sponsor us and send us 'goodies' that will help us win the games. Or at least not be the first one dead. The thought of the people who enjoy the sight of us battling to our death sending us lifelines makes me sick. The district people are like pets to them. They are completely oblivious to the horribleness of this. After talking to Marcus for a while on what I am going to wear to impress the Capitol people, I eventually decide that Marcus isn't a bad man. He doesn't treat me like dirt. He respects me.  
"Come," he says. I am dragged to a different part of this huge building, which swarms with stylists and prep teams.  
"Going to try to make me look pretty?" I ask disdainfully.  
"No, I want to make you memorable," he replies. I'm then led to a room which I will be my room, and am sat in a styling chair. The rest of the time I spend in that room is a blur, so I'll cut to the chase. I am walking toward our chariot when I meet one of the other tributes.  
"Hey," he says, "You're Violet, aren't you?"


End file.
